


Redflags in the Rearview

by themunchking



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Daddy Kink, I couldn't resist sorry, M/M, Sexual Content, Violence, flagrant disregard for reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 14:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18152978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themunchking/pseuds/themunchking
Summary: Renjun watches Yukhei fall in love on a Friday.Or, how Wong Yukhei of a Hong Kong Triad falls in deep with stripper named Jungwoo, from the eyes of his mafia brothers.





	Redflags in the Rearview

**Author's Note:**

> I love a good Mafia!AU (clearly). First time writing for NCT, even though I'm working on several different fics for them at the moment. I barely did any research for this, so don't look into it too much. Be aware that this fic contains mafia appropriate themes and content that may be triggering, including violence and allusions to rape (though none actually occurs). But in my opinion, it's not all that dark. Anyways, SM can pry Luwoo from my cold dead hands.

1.

Renjun watches Yukhei fall in love on a Friday. The elder is in Korea on behalf of the Triad, here to help Renjun arrange a deal for illicit cargo and drugs between the Korean mafia Renjun interfaces with and the Triad back home in Hong Kong. Soon Boss Qian’s oldest son Kun will come into power and it's time for his disciples, of which Renjun and Yukhei both are, to prove their worth. Besides, Renjun would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy his time in Korea. In many ways Boss Taeyong reminds him of Kun—an oddly doting figure in a landscape of violence.

The final stages of negotiations go smoothly. Yukhei's Korean is imperfect but enthusiastic. His boyish charm would be a weakness if Yukhei wasn’t known in their circles to have tracked the men who raped and murdered his mother through a Thai jungle and killed no less than three of them with his bare hands as an adolescent.

To celebrate, they visit a club Boss Taeyong is the proprietor of, which Renjun is all for because it means he gets to watch Jaemin flirt with the dancers just to make Jeno jealous. And maybe later the three of them will take a bottle of champagne and a baggie of blow into a back room and have some fun of their own. But before all that Taeyong takes them up to the private balcony overlooking the dance floor, where the manager of the club offers to get any of them whatever their hearts desire. Taeyong doesn’t care for the dancers, but some of his men do, so the manager summons his best girls and plenty of alcohol.

“And what do you like, sir?” the manager asks Yukhei. “Big tits? Blondies?” 

“Boys,” Yukhei says, blaisé. “No one young.” It’s less common in Korea, of course, the young ones, but not unheard of. In certain places in the south of Asia, it’s something that always needs to be made clear. His gege’s taught him that. The manager seems taken aback but has the good sense not to show it too much. It’s fair—to many Yukhei doesn’t seem the type to like boys.

“Bring him Jungwoo,” Taeyong tells the manager, who then disappears to follow these marching orders.

“Never shy. You haven’t changed at all,” Renjun teases Yukhei in Cantonese. The language feels relaxed on his tongue. He only learnt it once he joined the Triad, and has hardly used it in his time in Korea, but Cantonese always makes Renjun think of his brothers and the warmth of home. Jaemin and Jeno whine in the background at being left out of the conversation.

“This trip should have everything!” Yukhei grins. In the light of the club he’s quite a sight—he’s dyed his hair blond and it suits him well, and his chiseled chest peaks through his mostly-unbuttoned silk shirt. He slings his arm comfortably over Renjun’s shoulders. These days, it’s always _Lucas_ for formal business, but the gesture takes Renjun right back to when Lucas was always just Yukhei. For him and his brothers, he still is. For most of their teenage years it was just him and Yukhei and Chenle, before Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Hendry rose through the ranks. Even then, it’s been nearly a year since Renjun has been in Korea and he’s missed his brothers more than he cares to admit. “Violence, money... all that’s left is the sex!”

The boy who comes up is slim and beautiful, of course, with silver hair but taller than Renjun would have expected. Jungwoo. He wears some kind of harness that wraps around his chest and hips with the briefs to match. The same as everyone he takes a moment to pay his respects to Taeyong; Renjun follows Yukhei's dark gaze as he watches Jungwoo on his knees in front of the Boss, the way he tracks the champagne Taeyong pours in Jungwoo’s mouth, and the way that it glistens on his lips, trails down his neck to the hollow of his collarbone. Taeyong slaps Jungwoo’s ass playfully and pushes him off towards Yukhei.

“Please, enjoy,” Taeyong gestures at Jungwoo like he’s a meal on a silver platter. From the look on Yukhei's face he is, and he will.

In front of Yukhei, Jungwoo runs a hand through his silver hair, touseling it lightly. “Hello,” he says softly, or maybe that’s just the timber of his voice. Renjun finds it quite lovely. Yukhei waggles on of his large hands at him and beckons the dancer closer.

“Hello pretty,” he grins. “Come here, yeah?”

His attention diverted, Renjun escapes from Yukhei's grip and squeezes in closer to Jeno and Jaemin. Donghyuck appears at some point with bottles of mysterious liquor and the ensuing flurry of shots distracts Renjun momentarily from the Yukhei Show. When Renjun looks back, Jungwoo is settled over Yukhei's lap, one of the Chinese man’s massive hands firmly gripping his waist, the other brought to Jungwoo’s lips as he kisses the clan ring.

 _Oh, yeah,_ Renjun thinks. Not only does the stripper works at club controlled by the mafia, he appears to be a favorite of Taeyong’s. He knows all the tricks to get powerful men riled up.  

Clearly, this pleases Yukhei, as it was meant to, because it makes his hips jerk up sharply. Jungwoo laughs and rolls his hips up, away, before swiveling back down to meet them. Jungwoo places his hands on Yukhei's broad shoulders for leverage and the tease continues. At one point Jungwoo ends up back to Yukhei's chest, one of the other man’s hand placed lightly over his neck and the Chinese man’s whole right arm wrapped around Jungwoo’s waist. If Yukhei is flustered, the dancer is just as affected, head thrown back as they move together.

“Getting hot and bothered, Injunnie?” Jaemin says playfully in his ear. A hand lands on the inside of his thigh. Jeno plops down on the other side of him. Well on his way to drunk, Jeno noses his way into the crook of Renjun’s neck.

“C’mooooon,” Jeno mumbles. He pokes at Renjun’s ribs. On his other side Jaemin’s breath is hot on the shell of his ear. Renjun gives in.

“Ok, ok!”

Delighted, Jaemin jumps up with Renjun and Jeno in each hand. He calls for a staff member to bring bottles to one of the private rooms before dragging them off, and that’s all that Renjun sees of Yukhei for the rest of the night.

* * *

 “Will you be good for me baby?” Yukhei growls into Jungwoo’s ear. At some point during their little session in the VIP section Jungwoo had pulled himself out of Yukhei's grip with a whispered _be right back_. Yukhei had watched as Jungwoo, flushed and obviously hard, approached one of the stoic bodyguards and had a brief word with him. The guard nodded and said something into his earpiece. Jungwoo, pleased by the interaction, whatever it was, returned to Yukhei's waiting arms with a smile.

 _All yours for the night_ , he’d said, which is how the’ve ended up in the elevator in the early hours of the morning on the way up to Yukhei's city-view hotel room. A full-body shudder runs through Jungwoo at the question. He’s wearing nothing but his dancing outfit underneath Yukhei's long wool overcoat. 

“Baby?” Yukhei asks again, this time laced with a warning.

“Yes,” Jungwoo breathes. “Yes I’ll be good.”

They make it inside without losing any clothes—barely. As soon as Yukhei slides the keycard in and the door shuts behind them he has Jungwoo pressed against the smooth surface of the door. Their mouths collide, fully, at last, and Yukhei delights at the insistent press of Jungwoo’s soft, warm mouth. Jungwoo whimpers. 

Yukhei pulls at his own wool coat until the other’s chest is revealed to him again. He revels in how his hands fit into the curves and dips of Jungwoo’s ribs. As pretty as the straps are, they need to go. Once they are, Yukhei steps back.

“Tell me you want to be here,” he says suddenly. It’s weird to having a raging hard-on and be thinking of his mom. Jungwoo doesn’t answer—his expression is one of confusion. It’s a lovely look on him, admittedly, the furrowed brows and slightly parted lips. “I’ll give you ten seconds. If you want to leave, put on my coat and go. I’ll spare you having to say no to a Triad. Ten, nine, eight—” 

Yukhei doesn’t make it to seven—Jungwoo is on him by then. He catches the weight easily and accepts the return of another mouth on his. 

“Please,” Jungwoo begs. “I want, Yukhei, I want.”

“Show me then,” Yukhei says.

Jungwoo drops to his knees almost immediately. If Yukhei didn’t have too much pride he could have come in his pants right there at the sight of someone so lovely and innocent staring up at him, ready to suck is cock. Hot hair brushes against his clothed dick, eliciting a loud groan. Yukhei tugs sharply at his belt until it comes free, and he doesn’t miss the way Jungwoo’s eyes trail after it. Information stored away for later. His slacks and underwear off in a single go.

“Hands behind your back sweetheart,” Yukhei says. He takes his dick in one hand, nerves firing at the long-awaited contact, and slides the other over Jungwoo’s head. Pushing Jungwoo’s head back, he takes a moment to slap his dick against his cheek and lips, spreading the glistening precome. Not to brag, but Yukhei knows his dick looks pretty good.

Jungwoo stares up at him with pupils blown wide and bitten lips. From this angle Yukhei can see the dark spot on Jungwoo’s briefs from where his own dick has been rubbing against the fabric. Jungwoo even has the audacity to smile—a lazy, soft thing. Yukhei has hardly seen such a pretty sight.

“Ok baby,” Yukhei says. “Suck.”

Jungwoo, the bitch, decides it’ll be fun to tease Yukhei first before giving him what he wants. He _does_ suck, but only the tip. Yukhei tugs harshly at Jungwoo’s hair, hard enough so that he can see tears form in the corners of his eyes.

“I thought you were gonna be good.” Yukhei pushes his dick further in, and in, and in, until Jungwoo is choking on it. He pulls out again just as fast. “Green, yellow, red?”

Jungwoo’s chest heaves. He looks up to Yukhei, confusion on his face for the second time that night. Like he’s surprised to even have been asked. “Green,” he says.

“Good.”

Jungwoo takes him in again, all of him, until his nose presses against his coarse pubic hair and Yukhei feels his throat spasm around his dick. Jungwoo makes the most filthy noises he doesn’t even look capable of making. Yukhei's grip is still in his hair but he lightens it some, aiming to comfort more than punish. Jungwoo is good, and the way his mouth feels is more than good. Yukhei thrusts shallowly into the heat and he’s _so close,_ but all he can think about is fucking Jungwoo for real. It hasn’t been so long for Yukhei, but long enough since someone who wasn’t just a warm body. And there’s maybe no one who has managed to get under his skin like Jungwoo.

Yukhei pulls Jungwoo off and for a moment they just stare at each other.

“Holy shit,” Yukhei swears and pulls Jungwoo up to kiss him. The other man manages the difficult art of kissing and laughing at the same time. But Jungwoo has proven to be perfect so far, so Yukhei really shouldn’t be surprised. It then dawns on Yukhei that both he and Jungwoo are still wearing clothes, which simply won’t do. Yukhei pulls at Jungwoo’s briefs and strokes his dick (lovely, just like the rest of him) once, twice, and to his surprise—Jungwoo comes. 

Clearly, Jungwoo wasn’t expecting this either because he makes a small cry of startled pleasure and lights up bright red.

Maybe it should be embarrassing, but Yukhei is too preoccupied by the fact that Jungwoo was so turned on by sucking Yukhei’s dick that he came as soon as he was touched.

Jungwoo groans into Yukhei's mouth. “I’m so sorry daddy,” he says. The breathless whine makes Yukhei's already sensitive dick throb. “I came without permission.”

“Yes you did.” Yukhei’s mouth follows his words to the to the shell of Jungwoo’s ear, who skirms slightly as the sensation. Yukhei is still holding him in his arms to keep their bodies pressed together. It’s filthy, the way Jungwoo’s cum rubs on their stomachs between them, but there’s something infinitely more delightful in the way pretty Jungwoo wants to be _used_. Yukhei takes the lobe between his teeth and _tugs,_ eliciting a whine of a higher pitch than before. Jungwoo leans into Yukhei's solid weight by tightening his grip on the broader shoulders.

Taking advantage of the weight differential, Yukhei scoops his hands underneath Jungwoo’s thighs to lift him into the air and deposit him on the bed on the other side of the room. Already sensing what Yukhei has in mind, Jungwoo scrambles onto his hands and knees and arches his back _just so_ to position his ass for punishment.

“Do you want daddy’s belt or hand?” Yukhei asks.

“Your hands daddy. Oh, please, they’re so big and I want—I want you to punish me with them and I want them inside me.”

“Only if you’re good baby,” Yukhei teases, although they both know Yukhei will be fucking Jungwoo tonight, no matter how good or bad Jungwoo is.

The first blow comes down with a satisfying smack, but the groan pulled from Jungwoo is even more so. Yukhei lands another, and another, until Jungwoo’s left ass cheek is bright red and Jungwoo needs to fist the sheets to keep himself together. Between his open legs Yukhei can see that Jungwoo is well on his way back to hard. He moves onto the right, giving it one solid smack before shifting suddenly back to the left. Jungwoo jolts in surprise, not expecting the pain there, and his groan is far more strangled.

“Green,” he chokes out between pants.

Yukhei keeps going until both cheeks match and until he’s sure that if he never sees Jungwoo again, the other man’s body will at least remember him. Although, even on that front an idea is beginning to form in the back of Yukhei's sex-addled brain.

Jungwoo’s entire body moves as he breathes heavily once Yukhei stops for good. He’s not given much relief, however, before Yukhei squeezes the cold lube directly onto his ass. Jungwoo jolts from the sudden change in temperature, the sensation of it jumping across his nerves. Yukhei wastes no time in sliding one finger in and _curling_. He imagines a future where he gets to work up Jungwoo just on his fingers alone for hours on end, until the other man is incoherent with pleasure.

Maybe, maybe.

Yukhei is far too impatient to do anything of that sort today, however. And Jungwoo is on the same page, it seems, because soon he pushes eagerly against the finger, asking for another. Yukhei adds the desired second and then quickly, a third.

Yukhei has big hands, and long fingers. He’s perfectly aware of what kind of effect that has and takes no small amount of pleasure in putting it to good use. By the third finger Jungwoo is as vocal as ever and his delicate thighs tremble.

“Daddy, _please,”_ he cries.

“What baby, use your words.” Yukhei scissors his fingers relentlessly. 

“Can I please have daddy’s cock?” Jungwoo twists himself so he look Yukhei in the eye as he says it. His face is flushed red, the shame shade as his ass, and there are tears in the corners of his eyes along with a beautiful pout on his lips. From the looks of it he’s been biting them between moans, because they’re swollen like they’ve been kissing for hours.

By now Yukhei is so hard it’s starting to hurt. 

“Well,” he grins. One hand, the one he’s not using to finger Jungwoo, comes to stroke that adorable face. The touch is welcomed and Jungwoo leans into his hand. “Because you asked so nicely, it’s time my baby boy gets rewarded." 

Yukhei maneuvers Jungwoo onto his back, into the perfect position for Yukhei to see every part of him. He wants to watch. Yukhei _loves_ to watch, and Jungwoo is so delectably watchable. He watches as Jungwoo’s back arches when the sheets slide against his still sensitive ass, and watches as Jungwoo slowly regains enough composure to look up at him. 

He looks perfect like this, spread out below Yukhei, hair a mess, both arms framed above his head on the pillows, almost like a ballet dancer. 

Yukhei uses his teeth to rip open a condom wrapper and deftly slides it on with one hand. With one hand on himself and the other gripping Jungwoo’s hip, he finally, _finally_ , slides in.

Jungwoo gasps. Yukhei groans.

He sets a brutal pace, not just with his hips, but by using his hold on Jungwoo to physically pull the smaller man onto him. It’s hard to decide where to look—Yukhei can’t help but be mesmerized by the sight of his cock sliding in and out, or the way Jungwoo’s greedy whole grips at it. But there’s also the sight of Jungwoo’s hands gripping the sheets, or how his eyes are squeezed shuts as he makes strangled screams while Yukhei pounds into him.

Stangled. Hm.

Yukhei leans forward, shifting his grip so that one arm is looped around Jungwoo’s thigh, pulling his hips open for the best angle. He brings to other one to Jungwoo’s neck and bends forward so they’re pressed together, faces only inches apart.

“You like it like this baby, hard and fast? Tell me you like it.”

“Yes, yes,” Jungwoo cries. Jungwoo searches for his mouth blindly. The kiss his messy—too much teeth, too much tongue, but for that moment it’s perfect. This close, Yukhei can taste the saltiness of Jungwoo’s tears and feels, keenly, how his airway strains under pressure. There are hands on his back, blunt fingernails that dig into the toned muscle there. 

From there, they get lost in each other. Yukhei is driven by Jungwoo’s breathless moans in his ear, and he pushes the pace until his core is burning. Just as he feels to build of his orgasm, Jungwoo suddenly pulls away to put enough room between their bodies to slide a hand down and tightly fist the base of his own cock, denying himself his own orgasm.

“Good boy,” Yukhei croons. Jungwoo keens at the praise. “You don’t get to come until daddy says you do.”

Jungwoo nods frantically. He reaches up to Yukhei like a flower to the sun and Yukhei goes willingly back into those arms with renewed vigor.

Jungwoo can sense when he’s close, because he clenches intentionally around the cock in him. Then, looks directly Yukhei's eyes, his first clear-eyed moment since they really got started, and flutters his eyelashes. He taps one finger on his lips. “Can I have daddy’s come here, please?” He asks.

Holy _fuck_ , how could one person be so perfect?

“Of course, baby,” Yukhei growls. He pulls out of Jungwoo and strips the condom off, tossing it somewhere into the depths of his hotel room, left to some poor unfortunate staff member to discover it. Careful not to put his full weight on the body below him, he straddles Jungwoo just so. “Do it for daddy.”

Jungwoo fists him with both hands, and it only takes a few strokes for Yukhei to come. Just the way his come splashes onto a waiting tongue and face could be enough to get Yukhei hard again in a matter of minutes. He certainly won’t be forgetting it anytime soon.

But—first things first.

Yukhei swings one leg around to position himself on Jungwoo’s side. With his left hand, he carefully strokes Jungwoo’s bangs off his face and he uses his thumb to push some of his own come into Jungwoo’s pliant mouth. With his right he plunges three fingers right back into Jungwoo.

Jungwoo’s hands fly to his wrists, yelling out and trashing wildly. Yukhei gets the message. He strokes Jungwoo to the pace of the fingers inside of him and whispers, “Yeah, that’s right baby. You can come now.”

The orgasm sends shocks through Jungwoo’s whole body. Yukhei can feel the contractions around his fingers, and takes care to do so carefully. Not quite done, Yukhei leans down and licks a strip of his come off that cute face and they kiss with the taste still lingering.

Jungwoo leans into the kiss, but otherwise his body is utterly boneless. No matter. Yukhei retrieves a towel from the bathroom and does a rush job of cleaning them both. By then, Jungwoo is dead asleep, body bruised and used, but satisfied.

It isn’t until Yukhei has them both tucked under the blankets and is petting Jungwoo’s hair softly that it occurs to him that he may be a little fucked.

* * *

When Jungwoo wakes up it’s to the uncharacteristic warmth of sun on his face—his bedroom has thick blinds for a reason—but then he remembers that he most certainly _did_ _not_ go home after his shift at the club, and that instead he chose to hop into bed with a member of a triad.  
  
Well. Not the first time that’s happened. 

His night had started normal enough with some dancing here, bringing around drinks there. But then Boss Taeyong came in with a crowd that was both familiar and not, and Jungwoo knew it would probably _not_ be just a normal night.

Jungwoo has danced with plenty of dangerous people and slept with a handful of them, but he’s only been in _this_ situation once, with Boss Taeyong himself, where he’s been asked to use his charms on someone he himself is so attracted to. Which is why he found himself not just _letting_ Yukhei practically fuck him on the couch in the VIP section, but actually _enjoying_ the man’s hot touch and filthy whispers. And when it became apparent Yukhei wanted to actually fuck him, not just grind against him in a club, Jungwoo decided to let him do that, too.

Hence: warm sun, not his bed, body deliciously sore.

But Yukhei also surprises Jungwoo. A murderer with a gentleman’s heart. He gave Jungwoo an easy out, and when he stayed, asked for his safewords, what would be too much. Jungwoo’s heart, the stupid, irrational thing it is, has the audacity to flutter just thinking about it.

So yeah, he fucked a member of a triad and love every minute of it.

Jungwoo sits up and takes stock of the hotel room: corner room with a beautiful view (he remembers that much from last night) with an attached sitting room. There are still indents in the plush carpet from where Jungwoo was kneeling. A single aluminium suitcase sits haphazardly in the corner, clothes spilling out. An partly disassembled handgun lays on the bedside table furthest away from Jungwoo. Yukhei himself isn’t visible, but Jungwoo can hear the distinct sound of the shower running.

He’s considering his options when the shower stops and Yukhei materializes, wearing only a towel slung low over his hips. God, even just the sight of him makes Jungwoo want to go to his knees. Again.

Yukhei smiles. It’s boyish and charming.

“Order whatever yeah?” He says while tossing Jungwoo the room service menu. There’s a tension in the air about what’s going to happen next—like if they’re going to go another round, how Jungwoo is going to get home in just his go-go outfit, if Yukhei will find it appropriate to pay him. Jungwoo has the urge to starting chewing his lip. Yukhei, however, just barrels through the tension.

Jungwoo most certainly does not watch Yukhei slide on boxer briefs over the top of the menu. Except when Yukhei catches him definitely not watching he doesn’t look away, either. He orders them a broad range of food and coffee, and as soon as he hang up the room phone Yukhei is crawling over the covers to kiss him.

This is when Jungwoo begins to think that Yukhei is going to be a problem—that is if he’s not already. It’s just that he feels so _good_ , even safe, bracketed by Yukhei's secure weight. This is the same person who has a gun laying casually on the nightstand and probably at least two more closeby.

Before the kisses can get too heated the food arrives, announced by a prim knock on the door. Yukhei slings a bathrobe over his shoulders but neglects to tie it. He holds one of his guns, procured from who knows where, behind his back with Jungwoo watching curiously on from the bed. This doesn’t phase Jungwoo. He’s seen plenty of strong-men posturing like this, and on a few occasions he tries not to think of, times when it wasn’t just posturing.

“Stay here,” Yukhei says. They had enjoyed a gentle flow of conversation while they ate, talking mostly about Korea, and the things Yukhei liked about it so far (he’s a fan of the food). “If you want to leave for a while just wear some of my clothes. Or if you want to leave forever just wear some of my clothes. I have business to attend to today, but I’d like you to be here when I come back.”

This isn’t an offer Jungwoo considers lightly. He puts the bowl of rice he was working on down in his lap and studies it while he thinks. Staying in Yukhei's hotel room all day with the intention of having sex with him again is much more than one night come from Jungwoo’s obligations as a dancer at a mafia-run club. This would be Jungwoo becoming _associated_ with Yukhei.

Jungwoo thinks of his job at the club, how he dances mostly-naked for powerful men who largely wouldn’t hesitate to kill him for a high-paying snuff film. He thinks of the molding food in his fridge, because although he loves to cook he never has the energy, and his apartment that feels like a stranger’s He thinks of his father’s blood, and his mother’s cold eyes, and the ring on the loan shark’s finger. He thinks of how Yukhei looks at him like his gives a damn, and even if that’s just a figment of his imagination, even if Yukhei's startling kindness is all just a lie, it still means something to Jungwoo.

It’s probably fucked, because Yukhei has killed dozens of people personally and contributed to the the deaths of hundreds, maybe thousands, more. But Jungwoo’s life is fucked, anyways.

He thinks of how he has nothing to lose, and hasn’t for a long time.

“Ok,” Jungwoo says. Yukhei smiles brightly and leans over to kiss him with coffee on his lips.

 

* * *

 

2.

Sicheng hears about Jungwoo before the plane even touches down. Yukhei was supposed to have returned Monday, but a few days in Korea had turned into a week. Yukhei has yet to offer the reason of his extended stay, but Sicheng hears about it anyways. Not because it’s his job to know everything, although it is, but because Renjun thought it a particularly good piece of gossip and told Chenle, and Chenle has a hard time keeping his mouth shut. Unfortunately, this also means Sicheng is going to have a hard time keeping this off Kun’s radar, because really Kun had more important things to think about than who’s warming Yukhei's bed. 

Sicheng really hopes this doesn’t become a huge headache. But knowing Yukhei, the situation is already bounding towards that direction. 

So Sicheng does what he does best—digs. Their contacts in Korea have grown considerably thanks to Renjun, so he doesn’t find it terribly difficult to arrange a small dossier on Kim Jungwoo. Out of everything, what Sicheng finds most surprising is that Jungwoo is using his real name. Though, according to Sicheng’s research it’s not like he’s putting himself in much jeopardy by doing so.

Jungwoo has the same backstory as a thousand pretty boys and girls circling the criminal underworld. His father got in bad standing with a loan shark, then _worse_ standing with a loan shark, until a bullet found its way into the back of his head. His mother sold her son off to pay the debt. Jungwoo was fifteen at the time, which was just old enough to get him sent off to a club instead of other dark places lost children find themselves in.

There are a few points to consider. First is that however pretty he is, Jungwoo has managed to make Yukhei interested for an extended period time. Not an easy task, because despite Yukhei's general openness it’s rare that he finds something (or someone) that catches his interest for longer than it takes for a new shiny toy to come along. But perhaps Jungwoo is clinging to Yukhei as a means to find revenge for his father. Or maybe Jungwoo’s father was an old bastard better off dead and Jungwoo has merely grasped at the chance to escape the club his death sent him to. Fortunately, Yukhei has gotten this far based on determination, charm, and people skills, so Sicheng suspects that the younger doesn’t outright know Jungwoo’s intentions he at least has a good guess.

After the better half of a day’s research and consideration, Sicheng comes to the conclusion that Jungwoo is not an immediate problem. Though he does decide that if anything goes sour he’ll disappear the Korean man off to the casino in Bangkok or the bottom of the harbor.

So Sicheng knows about Jungwoo before he even arrives in Hong Kong, but doesn’t actually meet him until two weeks later. 

It’s under an odd set of circumstances. Sicheng shows up at Yukhei's (ghastly, in his opinion) open loft apartment after 10pm on a Tuesday with a canister of warehouse blueprints. He has to wait an annoyingly long amount of time to be let in, because the only people with another key to the apartment are Ten and Kun himself.

Clearly, he’s interrupted them in the middle of what appears to be vigorous fucking. When he comes to the door Yukhei's hair is askew at gravity-defying angles and his skin is inflamed with bright red scratch marks up and down his chest. Sicheng manages not to feel bad because he’s never forgotten how many times Yukhei has barged in on him and the yakuza boy. 

Nevertheless, Yukhei welcomes Sicheng in with a sweaty, uncomfortable hug and a grin. Behind Yukhei, Jungwoo is sits up on Yukhei’s bed, encircled in a nest of blankets, bare chest dotted with hickeys and Yukhei-sized bruises.

“This is—” Yukhei gestures. 

“I know,” Sicheng says. Yukhei chuckles. 

“I figured.”

So far, Jungwoo has said nothing, but his eyes are trained carefully on Sicheng. His expression is neutral, but focused. Sicheng has all of his attention, and for such a delicate looking person, Jungwoo’s gaze is quite intense. He doesn’t make a single noise, apparently content to let Yukhei do his talking for him. It’s a learned behavior—that among those who would kill you without a second thought, it’s best to not call attention to yourself unless acknowledged and to do your best impression of pretty wall art. Because that’s what many people in their circle will think of Jungwoo as: decor.

Sicheng and Yukhei gather around the kitchen island to spread out the blueprints, business taking over from the interpersonal gossip. Several minutes later a wine glass appears at Sicheng’s side, and the person holding the bottle is Jungwoo. He’s dressed in a silk robe that is more of an accessory than an article of clothing, but he does look pretty in it. Jungwoo pours him the wine but before he can turn away Sicheng grabs his wrist.

“I am Sicheng.” His Korean is less than solid, but to Sicheng’s ears it doesn’t come out terrible. Jungwoo does an admirable job of reigning in his eyebrows and smiles gently at him. It’s a beautiful little thing, like a summer’s breeze, but the sharpness in his eye leads Sicheng to believe there’s more to Jungwoo than anyone would ever suspect, much more than Sicheng could learn on paper. He sees why Yukhei likes him so much.

“I am Jungwoo,” he replies, in better-than-expected Cantonese. Interaction completed, Sicheng drops Jungwoo’s wrist.

“He has a tutor,” Yukhei says, proud. The interaction has pleased him, obviously. Jungwoo crosses to Yukhei and drops a butterfly-weight kiss onto one of Yukhei's ears. And Yukhei, being who he is, simply cannot pass up the opportunity to smack Jungwoo’s ass as he retreats towards the lounge area. “He’s pretty nice, huh?”

 _Pretty,_ Sicheng thinks. _But maybe not nice._ But—Jungwoo’s file will get tucked away for moment.

 

* * *

 

3.

As a general rule, Ten hates unnecessary displays of hypermasculinity. But as Kun’s second-in-command and someone so physically slight himself, he does have to indulge the occasional performative act. This poker game is one of them.

The casino is in their territory, and Ten sits at a private table in a back room with Yukhei on one side and Johnny on the other. Also sitting with them are four members of separate Triads with which they have a mostly settled deal with. Because Johnny is here, Ten would really like nothing more than for the taller man to lean over and kiss the base of his neck, which he knows Ten loves. But they’re entertaining guests, and Ten can’t afford such a fragrant display of submission.

And of course, Yukhei has brought Jungwoo.

The Korean man is dressed not pressed oxfords like the rest of them but in a black and gold—the colors of the Triad—silk wrap shirt that is hardly opaque and tight leather pants. The casino is safe enough for Jungwoo to be there, but he exercises a smart sense of caution and never strays much more than an arm’s reach away from Yukhei. Jungwoo did deal the cards, and Ten caught the hunger in the gazes of their visitors, but Yukhei's possessive hand on his back should be a clear enough statement of _he’s mine, no touching_.

Mostly, Jungwoo just leans over Yukhei and drapes his arms around those broad shoulders from behind.

During the course of the game—in which Ten is generously allowing their visitors to be just barely losing—Jungwoo leans down to whisper something in Yukhei's ear. From Ten’s position he can barely make out the playful teasing, but from across the table one of the men, Xixing, sees something else entirely.

“Using your whore to cheat, Wong?” He says.

 Yukhei's reaction is predictable, so much so Ten has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Yukhei's gaze snaps to the man and Ten clearly sees the sharp line of his jaw clench. For his part, Jungwoo looks impassive, but one hand is gripping the back of Yukhei's chair so tightly it’s turned white, while his other hand clutches Yukhei’s collar. Whether this is to comfort Jungwoo or Yukhei he can’t say. There’s a chance this situation goes sour, fast. Xixing could choose to be cruel just for the pleasure of it, and although Yukhei is enamoured with Jungwoo none of them are much in a position to defend a person not technically a member of their Triad. Jungwoo is an accessory, viewed by most as disposable. 

Or Yukhei could do something stupid. Johnny’s gaze is on Ten, and Ten gazes down to his cards. It’s not a very good hand, honestly, but Ten is a wonderful bluffer.

“Pet, why don’t you come here?” Ten says. He crooks on finger at Jungwoo without looking at him, or anyone else, for that matter. Jungwoo obeys without waiting for input from Yukhei, to whom he usually defaults all decisions. One toe out of line and that could be it—they all, including Jungwoo, know that well. He settles on his knees by Ten’s side and pillows his head on his slim thigh. Ten pets his hair gently. It has a soft, fluffy quality to it.

“Call,” he says, and pushes his chips forward. 

The game continues without anyone arguing. That’s the sort of power Ten commands. Although he does share a long look with Johnny, the unsayable passing between them with the ease it always has. Yukhei gets distracted by his anger and folds quickly. Ten would have thought Jungwoo had fallen asleep but for the patterns he chooses to draw patterns on Ten’s leg to entertain himself. 

Ten is thinking it’s about time to wrap this game up and move onto business talks when he notices that Jungwoo is drawing the same pattern over and over again. His eyes slide down from his cards to Jungwoo, whose face is tilted to look up at him. 

 _Wire_ , he mouths clearly. With his finger Jungwoo draws a circle—the table—and taps the point furthest away from their bodies. Ten’s eyes flick up for a moment to that spot. Xixing.

He doesn’t need to ask if Jungwoo is sure. Ten remembers how when Jungwoo walked around the table dealing before the game started he’d stroked a teasing finger idly across each man’s back, and how it would have been possible for Jungwoo to feel something unexpected hiding under Xixing’s shirt. Jungwoo could have gotten himself killed a few minutes ago—he’s aware of the consequences this accusations could have.  

Ten waves for the faceless security guards standing silently in the corner of the room. Guests are strictly not allowed to carry weapons inside the casino, but he could never be too cautious, not now.

“What is this?” One of the other men snaps. Johnny and Yukhei look at Ten cautiously but know not to challenge him. He lifts Jungwoo’s head off his lap and both men stand, Jungwoo immediately going back to the safety of Yukhei's side.

“It appears,” Ten says, slowly tracing his way around the table. “That our friend Xixing here has betrayed us. That he’s wearing a wire. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“Of—of course not!” Xixing splutters. Figures. In poker and in life the man is a terrible liar. When Ten reaches the man’s chair he kicks it over and dumps the man onto the ground with one quick shove.

“If you don’t believe me, check for yourselves,” Ten tells  the other men. They’re on Xixing in a moment, tearing at his shirt. Not only is the possibility of Xixing wearing a wire a threat to the other Triad members, but it’s also an insult to their reputations, and that needs to be treated seriously. They find the wire taped across his shoulders, just where Jungwoo would have felt it. 

Ten holds out a waiting hand to one of the guards, who places his handgun in it. “Prove to me you weren’t involved, too,” Ten tells the men, and hands the gun over. Everyone is the room is standing now, except for the pitiful Xixing, trembling and likely pissing himself with fear.

“Are you going to apologize, you dirty pig?” Yukhei asks from across the table. He holds Jungwoo close with an arm fully around his waist. Jungwoo is turned into him, every part turned away from the violence. If Ten didn’t have to, he probably wouldn’t watch, either. Yukhei’s furor matches the atmosphere, but he also looks gleeful at this turn of events. “You dare call what’s mine a whore. We should cut out your tongue first.”

“A fine suggestion,” Ten says. “But let’s make things quick, gentlemen. Cut off a finger or two to send along to the detectives who sent him here to die and wrap things up.”

After, when Xixing is dead and Ten unfortunately has blood on his shoes, the four of them make their way to the penthouse suite where officially Johnny is staying, and where unofficially, Ten is staying too. Ten plops himself down on the couch while Yukhei and Johnny search the kitchenette for food, talking amongst themselves loudly. He closes his weary eyes for a second until a the light press of a body presses onto his. When Ten opens his eyes, he finds Jungwoo hovering above him.

“Thank you,” Jungwoo says softly.

“I should be thanking you,” Ten says. He _could_ recognize that Ten was the one to prevent things from getting ugly right at the start, but Jungwoo did well in the end and proved his loyalty. That gets to be rewarded. And in a way, Ten thinks, more meaningful then sex. He’ll put it on the list of things to talk to Kun about. 

But in the meantime, Jungwoo presses kisses onto the smooth, honey-colored expanse of Ten’s neck. Ten drags a hand down Jungwoo’s chest to his navel. Over the Korean man’s shoulder he sees Johnny and Yukhei watching them curiously, waiting to see what happens.

“Gratitude accepted,” Jungwoo says. He pulls up to straddle Ten properly. “Will you let me show you my gratitude?” Jungwoo compounds this statement by subtly grinding down on Ten’s semi-hard erection.

Who is Ten to turn down good head after a stressful evening? “By all means,” he says.

Ten closes his eyes and lets himself fall into it once Jungwoo’s mouth envelops him fully. The adrenaline from earlier still runs through his veins and he’ll take whatever chance to relax he can get. But there is also the added thrill of being watched, and he knows that both Johnny and Yukhei _like_ to watch.

Jungwoo sucks him off expertly. He doesn’t make too big of a show of it, just gets down enough of Ten as he can and works his tongue and throat. If Ten opened his eyes he knows he’d likely see Yukhei's hand in Jungwoo’s hair and Johnny leaning over the back of the sofa to get a better angle.  

He comes with a shudder, eyes still closed, the gentle tide of his pleasure washing over him. Ten feels Johnny’s lips on his forehead, and his face is being cradled in those large hands of his. In the background, Ten hears the wet slick of what must be Jungwoo and Yukhei kissing, before the two ultimately leave the room entirely.  
  
Well then. It’s turned out to be quite the eventful night.

 

* * *

 

4.

Chenle is bored. This is not often the case, because as the youngest son of the Boss and the blood younger brother of the Future Boss, Chenle has a whole host of people at his disposal to order around, whether that be for official Triad business or just for whatever shenanigans Chenle can come up with.

But today Chenle is bored, so he does the most logical thing he can think of, which is go bother his brothers. 

Ten is definitely out, and so is Kun, because of some important meeting going on (like usual). Sicheng is out, too, because although he adores Chenle (and honestly, Chenle is hard to resist), the situation with the police has been driving him crazy. Renjun is still in Korea. Hendery is also out of the country. Yangyang is likely available, but he’s probably with Xiaojun, who is a good brother but not a particularly fun one.

Chenle’s most fun brother is Yuhkei, anyways. 

 _I’m coming over okaaaaaay._ Chenle sends the message to Yukhei when he’s already told his driver the destination. _Don’t be doing anything gross >:(_

Yukhei doesn’t reply, but he’s terrible about those kinds of things, anyways. Chenle has no problem getting into the building, bounds up to Yukhei’s apartment, and raps quickly on the door. The older man opens it with a flurry of hands and words.

“Chenleeeee,” Yukhei whines. He’s in the process of trying (and failing) to tie a tie. “I have work to do today. Not even fun, head-smashing work. Boring numbers work.”

“But _Yukhei_ , the only one with nothing to do is _me_ ,” Chenle whines. He may not have a sector of Triad business himself to work on, but Chenle does contribute. Mostly he hosts internal meetings (read: parties) and makes sure everyone inside the organization is happy. But that’s not easy when everyone's too busy for a dinner soiree.  

“We can hang out,” a voice says. Jungwoo appears from the kitchen area, dressed in a soft-looking baby blue sweater and light jeans. He swats away Yukhei’s hands away from the mess of his tie and finishes doing it himself. “I know I’m not really a replacement for Xuxi, but I have my ways.”

“Perfect!” Chenle says. And it is perfect, because Chenle is a notorious gossip fiend, and this is a wonderful opportunity to get more info on Jungwoo. It’s been some months since Yukhei brought an extra person back with him from Korea, and despite how enamoured he is, Yukhei’s been surprisingly shy about bringing him out too often. Even less so since the incident at the casino a few weeks back. Jungwoo isn’t a fully-fledged member of the Triad, and they all know that can make his situation a bit... tricky.

Yukhei himself doesn’t seem so sure. “Okay,” he says carefully. Chenle watches as the conflict sorts itself out within him. Eventually, he hits the realization that fighting Chenle today is a losing battle, as it usually is. “Jungwoo, watch out for this little hellion. He’s cute, but the kid’s got fangs.”

“I’m not a kid!”

“Yeah, ok,” Yukhei laughs. He ruffles Chenle’s hair and pecks Jungwoo a kiss on the lips goodbye. Jungwoo has to remind him to take his briefcase with him. The two of them watch the door shut behind Yukhei.

“So,” Jungwoo says, turning to Chenle, an innocent look on his face. “Laser tag?”

* * *

Chenle lets out a shrill dolphin laugh as Jungwoo finishes telling him a story about Yukhei almost lighting the curtains on fire trying to cook dinner, and was since banned from the kitchen for good. As the good older brother, Jungwoo (and by extension, Yukhei) has bought Chenle all the food he’s requested, and the two are currently giggling over frozen yogurt.

Jungwoo put up a surprisingly good fight in laser tag against Chenle, who has a dozen years of firearm training under his belt. His father bought him a beretta for his eighth birthday. Jungwoo’s strategy appears to be treating Chenle like an overactive dog that just needs some exercise to calm down. And well—it it’s not a bad instinct. But what Chenle wants are the juicy details on Jungwoo, though the sweets are a definite bonus.

Because Chenle is good at this sort of thing, he lures Jungwoo into a false sense of security all the way back to Yukhei’s apartment, where he gets ready to spring his trap. So far the questions have been relatively innocuous—what does Jungwoo like about Hong Kong, what does he miss about Korea, Chenle teaching him various tongue-twisters along with creative swear words, etc. But it seems like Chenle hasn’t been nearly so subtle as he thought, because as soon as they get settled on the couch under the guise of watching some animated movie, Jungwoo turns to Chenle and says:

“So. What do you really want to know?”

Chenle manages not to verbalize his reaction—his father would scold him, otherwise—but he does pout. He’s good at pouting. 

“What’s your play?” Chenle asks. Jungwoo sits with his knees tucked up to his chest and rests in chin thoughtfully on his knee. 

“I don’t have a play. Yukhei makes me feel safe. I’m sure you know how rare a thing that is in this world,” he says. Chenle does know, because he can hardly count all the times his own father made him feel unsafe, and where Kun and his brothers were the only friendly harbor. “It doesn’t matter to me if that’s an illusion or not. Some illusions are so good that it’s worth holding onto, no matter what.” 

Jungwoo’s gaze focuses in on Chenle directly.

“When I was around your age, a bit younger, my mother sold me off to the loan shark that killed my father. I worked in a club where I was one of a hundred pretty, disposable faces. We were treated like designer handbags. Until I met Yukhei, I hadn’t felt peace in years beyond when I fell asleep from exhaustion. I have that peace now, or something close to it, and I want to protect that. I need to. I don’t care if people call me a whore or an accessory or if Yukhei locks me in this apartment every hour of the day.”

“Do you love him?” Chenle asks. It’s clear Jungwoo is _loyal_ to Yukhei, but it’s a dangerous thing to confuse that with love. Jungwoo diverts his gaze and turns it to the world outside the window.

“He loves me,” Jungwoo states plainly. “I want to love him, too. I just need to relearn how.”

Chenle is surprised by Jungwoo’s honesty. He likes that about the older man—it’s a trait not many people in his life have, outside of Yukhei himself.

“Who do you love, little Boss?” Jungwoo asks.  
  
When Chenle thinks of love he doesn’t think of the mother he never knew, or the father whose cold ring rubs against the back of his neck. He thinks of Kun making him dessert and letting him eat off his plate, and Ten placing a reassuring hand on his knee the first time Chenle was allowed at a real negotiation. He thinks of Xiaojun taking piano lessons with him just because Chenle didn’t want to go alone, and Renjun teasing him and pulling at his ears. He thinks of staying up late with Yukhei laughing and falling asleep with his head in Sicheng’s lap.

He thinks of the way Jungwoo looked at Yukhei while tying his tie this morning. Maybe Jungwoo doesn’t, but Chenle believes that he’s already relearned all there is to know about love.

 

* * *

 

5. 

Yeah, Yangyang thinks, they might be fucked.

The messed up part of it all is that none of them were even supposed to be in Beijing in the first place. Not Yangyang, who was supposed to be lounging on a beach in Phuket, or Jungwoo, with his fake passport and fake Visa. It began as a scheme of Yukhei’s, in which he enlisted him and Hendery and Xiaojun, to get some simple business done and show Jungwoo, as Yukhei put it, “the sights.”

Right about now, Yangyang really wishes Yukhei impulsively took Jungwoo to Australia, instead.

Instead, Yangyang is tied up on the concrete floor in the illegal basement of a hutong maze. He’s taken a couple kicks to his ribs so far, but nothing too bad. Their mysterious captors have tied his arms behind his back and ankles together with a rope that chafes just enough to be truly obnoxious. Xiaojun is knocked out, has been since the initial kidnapping, and the cut on his head bleeds sluggishly onto his hair and floor. Xiaojun is tied up in a similar way to Yangyang. Jungwoo is the least restrained, but also the most but also the easiest target, if things come down to it. And they might. 

No offense to Jungwoo, but Yangyang isn’t very confident in his ability to get them out of this. The room has no windows, one door, a single, bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling as a lightsource, and concrete blocks for walls. The hutong basement has probably been built for the sole purpose of soundproof torture. The only hope they have is that neither Hendery nor Yukhei are with them. But how they’d even _find_ them is unclear. 

So yeah, they might be fucked.

They’ve yet to discover what their captors want from them, though Yangyang suspects it has something to do with Xixing and the casino mess, even though that was months and months ago, and Xixing was a lying rat who deserved what he got. But Triad loyalities are a weird thing. Fortunately, if that’s the motivation, then this may not be an officially-sanctioned kidnapping, because that would mean war between _at least_ two Triads.

It doesn’t make the situation any less fucked.

As Jungwoo only has his hands tied, and in front of for that matter, he checks on Xiaojun, carefully moving back his dark hair. He clumsily tears off the bottom of his shirt and wraps it loosely around the wound. It’s not much, but not nothing, either.

“Listen, Jungwoo—” Yangyang is interrupted by the unceremonious return of their captors. It’s three of them, one smaller like Yangyang, one a built more built, and the third properly overweight. The overweight one appears to be in charge, as he’s the one who ordered the others to kick Yangyang in the ribs.

“Well, well,” Fatty drawls, in Mandarin. Jungwoo, Yangyang’s brain supplies, doesn’t speak Mandarin. “Aren’t we going to have some fun.”

“These two are Triad, but this one’s not,” Skinny gestures at Jungwoo, who quickly keys in on that he’s the topic of conversation. “No mark.”

“Wong’s pet whore,” Ugly Middle Child remarks. “Not Chinese, is he? Japanese?”

“Korean,” Fatty says. He grips Jungwoo’s chin. He doesn’t flinch. “I wonder what Wong thinks is so good about him?”

“Well, we can try him out,” Ugly Middle Child leers. 

“Hey!” Yangyang yells, succeeding for a moment in diverting their attention. “You said it yourself, he’s not Triad, so what does he matter, yeah?”

His idea backfires, however, and Fatty grabs at Jungwoo’s hair sharply, so that the Korean man has to twist himself in a creative way to avoid falling directly on top of Xiaojun.

“It matters to Wong, I’m sure,” he says. “After he makes our cocks warm maybe we’ll send him his whore’s tongue.”

The last part he says in Cantonese, just so Jungwoo gets to hear it, too. Far from being frightened, Jungwoo jumps at the opportunity.

“Don’t stop there,” he says breathily, pretty. “Let him know what he’s missing, what you stole from him.” Jungwoo has a way a speaking that captures everyone's attention. It reminds Yangyang a bit of Kun, actually. With his soft voice he commands a room. Yangyang hasn’t exactly had the opportunity to watch Jungwoo work his magic, but he does here. Jungwoo shuffles closer to Fatty on his knees, widens them in invitation. “I’m good for much more than a blowjob. I can be good for you for a long, long time,” he whispers. 

Quite a few things happen in the span of the next few seconds.

First, as soon as Jungwoo gets close enough to Fatty’s crotch he jabs a small knife he had hidden in his sleeve, one that their captors neglected to even check for. Fatty cries out in pain and Jungwoo pulls him forward, on top of him, so that Skinny and Ugly Middle Child end up shooting Fatty instead of Jungwoo. 

Admittedly, it’s not the best plan, because Jungwoo can’t exactly take out two more men with guns with a tiny knife.

“Fuck!” Skinny swears. He runs a hand through his hair in panic. “Fuck, fuck.” 

“I told you this was a bad idea, man,” Ugly Middle Child hisses. 

“You know what, we’ve got this. Come here you fucking whore.” Skinny hauls Jungwoo up by his hair, again. Yangyang gets a gun pointed at him for his protest. “We just kill them, and get out of here.”

They are so, so, fucked. 

Fortunately, that’s when Yukhei decides to show up. He kicks the door in, because he watches too many shitty cop shows despite knowing how to properly clear a room. Hendery comes in, gun raised, behind him. Hendery puts a handful of killing shots into Ugly Middle Child, but Yukhei goes for gut shots on Skinny. Ones that will draw the death out.

Yukhei kneels in the blood and mess on the floor as he can press a brutal finger into the gunshot wound he inflicted.

“I’m going to make you suffer,” he spits, managing to be heard over Skinny’s screams. “This is what you deserve.”

Meanwhile, Jungwoo scrambles to press himself firmly against the back wall while he starting to hyperventilate. His arms wrap themselves around his trembling frame. For Jungwoo, the shock sets in quickly.

 _“Yukhei_ ,” Jungwoo cries out. Yukhei looks up immediately from his work on Skinny. He’s in front of Jungwoo in a second, cupping his face gently with bloodstained hands. 

“Shhhh,” he hushes. “It’s ok, you’re ok now. You did so well baby.”

Jungwoo tucks his face into Yukhei’s body and sobs. And if anyone asks Yangyang hears them exchange _I love yous_ , well, he didn’t hear anything at all.

* * *

After Beijing, the go home. Jungwoo stays tucked into Yukhei’s side, not that the Chinese man would have let Jungwoo stray anyways. Jungwoo is usually quiet, the type who listens instead of speaking, but after, he does neither. He stares off into space, mostly, and only responds when it’s Yukhei speaking to him directly.

The moment they walk into their apartment in Hong Kong, Jungwoo makes a direct line to their bed and collapses on it, everything but his shoes still on. Yukhei doesn’t follow him, not yet, taking a moment to heat up and pour some hot water into mugs, which he places on the bedside table. 

Yukhei uses gentle, slow hands to remove Jungwoo’s clothing piece by piece. Before they arrived in Hong Kong, the tension in Jungwoo’s body was evident from the stiff lines of his normally elegant body. Now, he just looks defeated. He allows Yukhei’s touch but doesn’t look at him, folding his wrists over his eyes, mouth twisted into an ugly frown. Once he’s down to his boxers, Yukhei undresses himself, and carefully maneuvers them both under the covers.

They come together naturally, perfectly. Yukhei’s chin on Jungwoo’s head, arms wrapped around him even with full knowledge that in a few minutes one arm would be asleep. Jungwoo’s hand resting on his chest, their legs tangled together. 

“I’ve never killed someone before,” Jungwoo whispers into Yukhei’s skin. He’s seen plenty of people die, Yukhei knows, but this situation is different from even when Jungwoo got Xixing killed. Yukhei knows that _technically_ you _didn’t kill anyone_ wouldn’t help.  

“The only thing that matters is being alive,” Yukhei says into Jungwoo’s hair.

 _We’re alive_ , _I’ll take care of you_. 

“I knew it would happen someday, I just didn’t...” 

“I know,” Yukhei says. It’s something that’s always looming—the inevitability of violence. What do you hold on to, to keep it at bay?

“I love you,” Jungwoo says.

“I love you too.” 

For now, they sleep.

* * *

Yukhei wakes to the weight of Jungwoo on top of him and the insistent press of Jungwoo’s lips. His neat nails scramble to find purchase in Yukhei’s sleep-mussed hair. Half-awake, Yukhei is swept up in Jungwoo’s haste to find as much bruising contact as possible. His hips rise to meet Jungwoo’s automatically, the same way his hands come up to cup slim hips.

Against his mouth Jungwoo begs for Yukhei to touch him, to bruise him, mark him. He just needs something, anything, that will make him _feel_ properly again—some sensation to pull him from the dark depths of numbness and light a fire under his skin.

And Yukhei could do that. He could do it so easily, just by rolling Jungwoo onto his hands and knees and pounding into him until Jungwoo is reduced to a sobbing mess on the sheets. He’s done it before. But that’s not what he needs now.

Instead, Yukhei makes it last. He drags his long fingers over the places inside of Jungwoo that make him shiver and whimper. He does it until Jungwoo’s thighs shake along with his voice, and until he comes messily, thumb rolling over the head of his cock, across Yukhei’s chest. 

“That’s good baby, that’s good, ride it out,” Yukhei praises him. He rolls them so he can kneel comfortable bracketed by Jungwoo’s knees, hair splayed out across the pillow. When he slides his cock over Jungwoo’s entrance he pays careful attention, although over-stimulation is a barrier they’ve crossed before, tonight Jungwoo needs particular care. Yukhei can give it to him.

He leads Jungwoo to a second orgasm with the smooth rolls of his hips and the drag of his cock. Sometimes when they’re face to face like this, Jungwoo becomes bashful, like Yukhei is seeing too much by peeling back the layers until the tender, vulnerable parts of him are revealed. But tonight Jungwoo keeps his eyes open and watches Yukhei, pinprick tears in the corner of his eyes, like he’s the only important thing in the world.

Jungwoo raises a shaky hand to Yuhkei’s lips. The soft pads of his fingers rest against the pillow of Yukhei’s lips and he reverently traces the curve of them, every dip and point of his cupid’s bow, the raw patch from Yukhei’s teeth. Like praying at the altar.

“I love you,” Jungwoo says. Yukhei places one hand over Jungwoo’s heart, because he feels like he can see it now, chest torn open and emotions laid bare. “I love you. I love you." 

If he had the time, Yukhei could give Jungwoo a thousand reasons why he loves him, too, and why he could never live without him. But for now he’ll settle for being a solid anchor to tether Jungwoo to reality, here with him under the sheets, the tiny lights of Hong Kong dancing kaleidoscope forms across the window.

 

* * *

 

6.

Kun eyes flick over the stack of paper in his hands. Shipping reports from Thailand, progress updates on their work on the Indian coast. It’s not particularly interesting, but Kun isn’t the anointed heir of his father’s Triad simply because he’s the eldest son. It’s because he excels at the little things, the details.

But there’s something else on his docket today, something more special and more unusual than paperwork.

For many months, the person warming Yukhei’s bed wasn’t of any concern to Kun. Unlike some of his younger brothers the salacious details of each others sex lives has never interested him. He knows that Sicheng did some digging when Yukhei first brought him home, and he knows Sicheng well enough that when there was no report there was nothing important to discuss about the matter.

It’s Kun’s job to protect his brothers, and that doesn’t always mean supporting them.

But then came Ten, and the casino, and Beijing. After the first incident, Ten sat across from Kun in this very room and said, “Yukhei is enamoured with him, obviously, but he’s not going to ask you for anything. But I think Jungwoo ought to be rewarded, don’t you?”

And Kun did think so, which is exactly why he’s invited Yukhei and Jungwoo to come see him today. Beijing has just compounded things. 

He presumes it’s Jungwoo’s good influence that causes he and Yukhei to be early, because Yukhei is often a hurricane of hurried limbs and so rarely punctual.

Yukhei knocks on the door. Kun knows it’s him from the rapid-fire cadence of the knocks, and because Yukhei always leads with the tops of his knuckles no matter how silly that is.

“Come in,” Kun calls.

Yukhei comes in first. It’s obvious that he’s nervous, because he can’t keep his hands in one spot, and also because Yukhei is particularly adorable when he’s nervous. Jungwoo comes in behind, also nervous, but far more contained in it. He bows deeply to Kun, but once he’s in the room he otherwise stays completely still and silent.

“Kun-ge,” Yukhei says. It sounds like he can’t decide if it should be a greeting or a question.

“Sit,” Kun says. Yukhei pulls one of Kun’s purposefully uncomfortable chairs out for Jungwoo before sitting himself, where he tries to quietly nudge their chairs closer. 

They sit in silence for a few moments.

“He’s a weakness, I know,” Yukhei blurts out before Kun can say anything himself. “But Kun—please. Let him go and I promise he won’t do anything,” Yukhei says. Then, 

“I love him,” he adds quietly.

While Yukhei talks, Kun notices that Jungwoo doesn’t look at him. He looks at Kun, instead, with a determined line to his jaw. One that says: _I am afraid, but I am brave, also_. From what he knows, Jungwoo does strike Kun as the brave type, despite the soft demeanor. It’s respectable.

“It is a weakness,” Kun says. “To have someone so close to the organization who is not an official member of the Triad. You’re impulsive, Yukhei, and always have been. There are two solutions, one of which you’ve come guarded against. But there’s another one, which even you aren’t brave enough to ask for.”

“I take the mark,” Jungwoo says quietly. Kun nods.

“You take the mark and become an official member in our ranks,” Kun confirms. “Some may complain about allowing you in without going through the indoctrination process, but some... events... have led Ten and I to believe that you have already proven yourself.”  

“Have you talked about this already?” Yukhei asks, confused and perhaps a bit concerned. 

“I knew we couldn’t keep on like this forever. I couldn’t just keep hiding in your bed, not after what’s happened. I’m a target. It’s either get rid of me... or this. If the Triad wanted me dead I already would be.” Jungwoo recites it like he’s spent a good deal of time thinking through the scenarios. Kun wouldn’t doubt that he has—it’s his life, after all. Kun also hears the _but_ hiding between the lines, however.

“You have reservations,” he states. His and Jungwoo’s eyes meet, and it’s the first time since their formal introduction that Jungwoo’s concern is written clear across his face. “I know who you are, Kim Jungwoo. The son of a gambler sold into the underworld. If you join us you get a step closer to the edge, to becoming the person who killed your father and ruined your life.”

“Is that what you think of me?” Yukhei asks, small.

“No!” Jungwoo says, swiveling towards him. “No, Yukhei, of course not. It’s just—”

“Everyone harbors fears,” Kun says. The corner of his lips flick up into a smile. “However irrational. I know what you want, Jungwoo. Stability. Isn’t that what you were really telling Chenle? I can give you that, in exchange for something I think you’ll find easy to give.”

“What?”

“Make Yukhei happy. See? I told you it’s easy.” It’s true that it’s Kun’s job to protect his brothers, his Triad. But if it’s within his power, he’d like to see them happy, too.

Jungwoo looks down at the floor. His hands on the arm of the chair are white-knuckled. For one beat, then two, the room sits in pin-drop silence.

“I’ll give you until the count of ten,” Yukhei says. Jungwoo looks at him with wide, surprised eyes. “Just like before. I want you to really mean it. I need you to.”

Jungwoo’s eyes flit between Yukhei and Kun. For his part, Kun decides he’ll allow this to go where it will.

“One,” Yukhei starts counting.

Jungwoo reaches over and grasps Yueki’s hand in his own. “I want to,” he tells Yukhei softly, but with confidence, too. “I’m sure.”

The moment is terribly intimate, and if Kun were a different man in a different life maybe he would feel embarrassed by watching. It’s certainly something, to love someone so much to be willing to let it go. It’s rare, for them, and precious. 

“You’ve grown up, Yukhei,” Kun says, proud.

A brilliant smile lights up Yukhei’s face. His fingers intertwine with Jungwoo’s, and Kun feels oddly like he’s just approved their marriage. And in some ways, he supposes, he is.  

* * *

Jungwoo knows quite a bit about Wong Yukhei.

First. He has big, strong hands, ones great for grabbing onto Jungwoo’s hips or placed comfortingly over his thigh. He likes to compare the difference, because although bigger in personality and heft, the height difference between them is really quite slight.

Second. His mother was Thai, and he loved her more than anything else in the world. It was her death that sent him on this path of violence. Despite the pain, he still likes to talk about her, and also likes to listen to female Thai singers in the shower. 

Third. He loves Jungwoo, and likes to show it in big ways so everyone knows. Like, say, fireworks on Jungwoo’s birthday. This has led to a few embarrassing occasions for Jungwoo, but by now he knows it comes with the territory.

Fourth. He loves Jungwoo, and likes to show it in little ways, too. He shows it in the kisses he brushes against Jungwoo’s knuckles, and the way he traces the crest of the Triad on Jungwoo’s shoulder why they’re in bed together.

Fifth. He loves Jungwoo, and Jungwoo loves him right back.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this at 2am lol when I need to wake up for work at 8 but this is For the People. Come hang at my ~new~ stan [Twitter](https://twitter.com/themunchking1) or also my [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/themunchking). Thanks for reading!


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